With cherries on top
by BbyGreenBlossom
Summary: He just won an Oscar. She just moved to NYC from a small villge. Their destiny is to become more than that. But life happens, decisions have to be made, fame and feelings get mixed and... well, just wait and see. He's Chuck Bass, she's Blair Waldorf - that screams trouble.
1. Those jerks

_"Here's the mini-cherry on top of the regular cherry on top of the sundae of awesomeness that is my life" B. Stinson_

5:00 A.M.  
I'm wondering what other people who are not sleeping are doing right now. Doctors on call, firemen, insomniacs, people with a totally different time zone…Normal people, in general. People who are living their lives with the cliché-istic hope for a better tomorrow and…

Wait. Stop! Are these thoughts even suitable for this hour? Quick answer: no. I should sleep. It's not like I've got a big day tomorrow, I can stay in bed until 3 pm if I want to, 'cause it's holiday, but still. I'll just check my starry-eyed account first. Because I can.

I'm sure you've heard about it – it's the new generation. It's the kind of site you love to hate. You gotta love it 'cause you can connect with your friends and with your favorite celebs. On the other hand, you can't help but realize that it's becoming addictive. This thing with celebs – weird. Wanting to know everything about them, loving them even they don't actually know you exist. Don't jump – I do it, too. That's why I'm using starry-eyed. Like on many other sites before it, celebs post things about them. You can follow their activity and they can follow yours (even though this doesn't almost ever happen). Something like Twitter but with a private chat.

I wonder what famous people are doing right now (another thought not suitable for this hour) and starry-eyed just gives me the answers. God bless this site and may their server never fail.

I read again my conversation with whoever hides behind Elvis Presley's and Madonna's account. The fact that this site is kind of new makes it hard to distinguish the real accounts from the fake ones. Sometimes it's pretty obvious they're not the real deal and sometimes they fool you into thinking they are, until some magazine prints an interview with the celeb claiming they have no starry-eyed account. Great.

Well… I had my share of contact with faux accounts – they got me all dreamy. Most of them I owe to my best friend Daniel (the lovely jerk). He's a genius when it comes to computers and he developed a passion for creating fake celebs accounts on this site (just like I developed a passion for - well, him. But I shouldn't tell you about that just yet). He twists things and numbers so everyone would believe it's the real celeb! Must admit, got me fooled a number of times.

Just when I was reading posts of some local celeb (I live in such a small town that almost everyone here could be considered a local celebrity), I got an email announcing me that **#ChuckBass** replied to my post

**#BlairW**: "gosh! **#ChuckBass** is such a jerk! I've always dated jerks, I could easily handle him too. Come at me bro!" with

**#ChuckBass:** "Stop dreaming..."

Jerk! And this time, by jerk I mean whoever is behind this name, 'cause it's sure as hell not… well, not Chuck. *dreamyeyes*

So I replied with _"suck it up, vampire.". _

Few minutes later, another email popped. **#ChuckBass **replied to your post**: **"I'll take that as a compliment?".

'that a question or a statement? Eh, irrelevant. What's wrong with all these people enjoying to pretend they are a famous person? I wonder if it's Daniel. AGAIN. (I'm secretly hoping he is, though. Damn! No, I'm not._ I am_. I'M NOT! I get along so well with myself sometimes...)

**#BlairW "**Insomnia is actually a very dangerous disease that could easily get you killed. You should see a doctor"

Could it really? If it could, that's dangerous! I'll have to remember to check that one out.

**********#ChuckBass **"I'm a vampire, I'm already dead. Get your facts straight"

****Clever boy! But he's no Damon Salvatore so...

**#BlairW **"It's 5 am, my brain went numb, sorry"**  
********#ChuckBass** "I thinck that explains things."

****Uhm, excuse me, little blood sucker?!

**#BlairW **"Honey-boo, I'm pretty sure the REAL Chuck would correctly spell think. Oh, and hello DANIEL"

Ha! Daniel did have the bad habit of misspelling random words. So the pieces of the puzzle were put together and all was fine and dandy in the world. The bastard hadn't replied in the following 10 minutes (gotcha, babe), so I turned off my computer and went to sleep. Well, I didn't really get much sleep, given the fact that I dreamt about huge ants with pink hats chasing me – heirup! Nope, not a great night.

Morning wasn't very great either. I woke up way too early because of my roommate. I swear, this girl has way too much energy for a human being – I think she's from Mars. That would explain things (oh, look, I was quotiong Daniel. Fascinating) I called my friend Georgina and spent almost 2 hours on the phone, while desperately trying to get our blog to look good.

Georgina lives about 700 km away. We've met on a blog we were both reading, we exchanged emails, then numbers, then secrets. After 3 years of this "online relationship" we got to see each other. From then on, we've spent summers together, travelling from her city to mine and doing all sort of crazy stuff. About two months ago, a brilliant idea popped into our minds while we were wasting our time on starry-eyed – we should start a celebrity blog! Well hell. Easy to say, freakin` hard to do.

Thanks to Daniel-the-lovely-jerk, we now have a blog. We posted a few things about us and some articles about teenage drama, but that's all. The whole point was to contact celebs via starry-eyed and other sites and ask them to give us interviews. We realize that's a little bit utopian, it's not like Nicole Sherzinger or Ryan Gossling would agree to talk to us, just like that. Be we thought hey, why not give it a try. We might have some fun while we're at it.

For starters, we interviewed some local celebrities. It wasn't much, we weren't extremely good at it (yet), but those two months of hard work got us some fans. I'm not even sure we can use the plural, but… well, we enjoyed the ride, you know.

Right after I posted an interview with a secretary from the hallway in Georgina's town, I got an email.

**#ChuckBass** replied to your post: "last time I checked, my name wasn't Daniel. Oh and btw (which means by the way) it's autocorrect."

Sure, cause autocorrect changes correct words into incorrect ones. Oh wait. It actually does.

**#BlairW** "Daniel, please. I'm not in the mood for one of your games. Call me"

**#ChuckBass** "I thinck you really don't get it, do you? And hate the game, not the player"

Oh, didn't you get the memo? It's "let's say random crap" night! Yeeey!

**#BlairW** "I'm incapable of such feelings, Daniel. It's not thinck, it's T-H-I-N-K. Think. Got it? That thing that you don't do – thinking. Did you have your English classes with a maid?"

**#ChuckBass** "Fun fact: I loved my English teacher. If you know what I mean *wink*"

Oh, holy Sun... The thought of him banging our 60 something years old teacher... fun fact indeed. Thumbs up.

**#BlairW** "whatever. Please check the blog, I can't change the font. Make it green."

**#ChuckBass** "Ergh…"

**#BlairW** "Oh, come on! Don't play idiot. Wait. You ARE an idiot. Idiot!"

**#ChuckBass** "That's a lot of idiot in one post."

**#BlairW **"Of course, I can't underestimate your level of idioticalness."

**#ChuckBass "**Is that even a word?"

**#BlairW **"It is now. I have to go, see you tonight at 6. xo"  
**  
********#ChuckBass** "No, wait. You don't understand. I don't thinck I'll be able to make it"

**#BlairW** "don't even think about it!"

**#ChuckBass **"But..."

Oh, good old Daniel. Giving me the chance to interrupt him even on the Internet. We're just meant to be. Oh, scratch that. That's not even a joke. I hate my numb brain at 5 am.

**#SophieRay **"Don't risk being killed in your sleep by an army of mutant bees. Be there you idiot"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how it all started. That's the turning point in my life. Turns out insomnia can really do some serious damage to your life. Even if it happens a single time. Because it's enough to get into dangerous conversations with strangers (which is strongly unadvised). I was unwillingly dragged in a game to which I did not know the rules. And boy, there were some nasty rules! But as someone extremely wise once said... Hate the game, not the player. And I lived by this life-messing inspirational quote. Because few months from that time, I was definitely not hating the player. Or players, to be more accurate.

I'm Blair Waldorf and this is my story. Prepare to be amazed.


	2. Here we go

_"Don't piss off the Universe, the Universe will slap you."_

The week was almost over and I had survived for four days without Internet. No starry-eyed, no mail, nada. Too bad. This morning I haven't even bothered to open my laptop. The disappointment I feel when that teeny-tiny error pops up on my screen can only be compared to the moment when I have to… uhm, ok, nothing to compare it to.

On Saturday evening I went over to a friend who was hosting this makeup party for the four of us. We are just like the four seasons – classy as the hotels and different as the weather. And when I say classy, I mean it. This sort of thing comes from the inside. And I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't point out that I have Upper Class material. Sorry.

We were getting ready for dancing and clubbing all night long. If you saw us on the dance floor, you'd probably think we were some full on crazy girls. We really take that "dance like nobody is going to put you on YouTube" thing very seriously. Especially since we just moved here and we're slowly discovering a whole new world. (Even though, bear in mind, I'm not so happy about this whole club thing… I'd much rather attend a soiree or something. Girls these days are just… uh)

While the girls were still trying on different colors of make up, I subtly logged on starry-eyed from Sara's computer. Ohhh, yes! Internet that actually works.

There were some replies from Georgina, juicy posts from my favorite celebs and another reply from a very annoying and undercover Daniel who loved to post under the name of** #ChuckBass**. Cah!

"Giiiirls?" I shouted, not loud enough for them to hear me.

I wanted to ask them about Daniel, whom I hadn't spoke to in a long time – face to face. The music was so loud that I was wondering whether the neighbors had already called the police. I walked in the room where they were dancing with lipsticks and mascaras in their hands. Dancing on the couch was Erin:

_And I feel, I feel like an angel,_

_Beautiful so stranger, hold me in your arms, ooo_,

He sang embracing herself.

"Yeah, truly an angel", I laughed, turning the music down a bit.

With that short red leather skirt and wearing only her black lacy bra, she looked more like a sexy devil.

"Alright posh girls, it's 11 o'clock. We should get going"

Half an hour later, we were making our great entrance in the club. It was rather small, but we liked it. Like usual, heads turned. Actually… "Me and my girls, we don't turn heads. Oh, no – we break necks".

XOXO

I got home at about 3 am, rather disappointed by our night out (unless you desperately want to take in account the fact that I spent a few good minutes to catch up with an ex). Do you know those moments when nothing, literally nothing interesting happens? And of course, I had my "let's turn this into a fun party" mode on, but it was a tad difficult. Yes, I know what you're thinking. It was difficult, even for me. So just imagine the night.

.It seems like I had made a habit out of not getting into bed before 5 or 6. At least I won't have any problem adapting to the new time zone when I get to NY. Out of some weird and bad habit, I turned my laptop on. I was about to put on some music, when I heard a very strange thing – "Virus database has been updated".

I gave my laptop a doubtful look. If the database has been updated, it means…

Oooo yesss! That's right! It's working, it's finally working!

I logged on into starry-eyed to leave Georgina a message, telling her I was living for New York in two days and asking if she had any new ideas for the blog. I was in such a good mood that I even sent a message to Daniel-the-lovely-jerk. Not finding any account with his real name, I sent it to **#ChuckBass** instead. Pshh.

**#BlairW :** _Hey, lovely jerk. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going back to New York. I suppose you're already there, since you're not answering your old number and you never gave me the new one. How about you wait me at the airport on Monday, at 8 pm? You know me – I have tons of bags, I need someone to carry them._

_Oh! You'll never guess who I bumped into last night! Tadaradaaam, drums beatiiing – Charles! Yup, Charles-the-player-and-the-ex-jerk. Looks like my life is full of jerks, don't you thinck? So… see you on Monday, you'd better be there, or I'm gonna make my assassin friend chase you and kill you in your sleep. Lots of love._

The last two days I spent home vanished in the blink of an eye. I visited my relatives, hung out with my parents and packed my things. My god, I do have tons of bags. I hate goodbyes, I really do. My mom and dad drove me to the airport and there was a soupy scene. I almost waited for my mom to pull out a white napkin from her coat and wave it when I kissed them and left.

I had a long flight, during which I slept almost the whole time. I woke up at about 6 pm, starving and scared, because the plane was shaking! Those were the longest two hours of my life. Turbulences over turbulences. Life's seriously not fair, I deserve better tickets. The annoyingly calm voice asking us to remain calm and to fasten our seatbelts was messing with my nerves. It was such a NOT good time to remember all the scenes from _Lost_. I tried to calm myself down, I put my hands on the arm rest, holding it so tight that my knuckles turned white. The woman next to me was holding a silver cross in her hands, looking desperate and praying with her eyes closed. Her lips were moving super fast and I could hear at times words like Jesus, my daughter, death or sins. Ohh, now that definitely calmed me down.

Anyway, following the plan, we landed at 8 pm. I spent almost half an hour waiting and recovering my bags. I think they invented the weight limit so that people like me won't break their arms carrying these things around. When I finally passed through the exit gate, I looked around for Daniel. Surprise, surprise – no freaking sign of him. Now isn't he the greatest friend ever?

Instead of my friend, I saw a very tall guy, dressed in black from head to toe, holding a piece of paper which in his huge arms looked so tiny. He must've been some kind of bodyguard by the looks of it. The only unknown in this equation – on that piece of paper was written… well, my name.

"Uhm, excuse me. Did Daniel send you?" I asked politely.

"Are you Blair Waldorf?"

I wanted to tell him something about not being a polite thing to answer a question with another question, but then I thought _Hey, you don't wanna mess with the bad guys_. So I simply said:

"Miss Waldorf, yes."

His face lit up and he smiled. Weird. He handed me another piece of paper, that said:

_Hello! (_a smile face was drawn next to that).

_I hope you had a nice flight _(oh, you have no idea).

_I am terribly sorry I couldn't come and pick you up myself, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Greg will help you with your bags and he'll take you wherever you need to go. Keep in touch. _**#ChuckBass**

I stared at that piece of paper. I swear, if looks could kill…

"Are you Greg?" I asked the big bad guy in a very serious (almost threatening) voice. I was pissed.

"Yup. Can I take your bags?"

I made a sign with my hands, giving him the green light to do so, still staring at that piece of paper. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Daniel. But not before I play his game. Suddenly, I realized it might be fun. So he thinks he can mess with me? Oh, boy, don't get me wrong, but… I'm the smart one, remember? I hear karma's a bitch and revenge is sweet.

I smiled to Greg and followed him. Daniel had absolutely no idea what was coming for him.

" Do you have a pen?" I asked him, bending forward while he was driving.

He gave me one and I wrote something on the piece of paper he previously gave me. At the end, I signed with **#BlairW**

Oh, boy. Here we go.


	3. My heart skips-skips a beat

_I should try and get there at about… 7 o'clock,_ _let's say_, I told myself. The very next moment I caught a glimpse of my phone's screen, seeing a big 6:40 on it. _Ok, make that 8 o'clock._

I took a look around the room. It looked as if I had been there for a year, not a week. I pulled a nice blue dress out of my closet and an ivory scarf. I put on my pearl earrings, some make up and pulled my hair into a French bun. Ta-dam. And that only took… OH MY GOD! An hour and 10 minutes?! I could have sworn that only 20 minutes passed. My heart skipped-skipped a beat. And when that thought passed through my head, it brought the lyrics to the song with it. I didn't know the lyrics, but the song kept playing in my head while I got out of my apartment, walked the streets, headed towards the pub and when I finally opened the door, at about ten minutes past eight, I was still humming it.

_My heart skips-skips a beat…_

No sign of Daniel. No-freaking-where. Ok. He's famous as the boy who is never late, so I assumed that either he got tired of waiting and left or he was waiting for me somewhere else. Not knowing what else to do, I got out of the pub and logged on starry-eyed. I was desperately hoping he would be bored while waiting and he would be online. And he was, thank God!

**#BlairW**: fine, Daniel. I give up. It's cold, it's about to rain and I put my best dress on. It took me more than an hour to get ready and that only to see you, you little bastard. You have no idea how much I've missed you. so… where are you?

**#ChuckBass**: *poker face*

**#BlairW**: oh, come on. Seriously, just tell me. I totally forgot where we were supposed to meet.

**#ChuckBass**: I'll send my driver to pick you up. Where are you?

**#BlairW**: no need to, I'll get a cab. Where are YOU?

**#ChuckBass**: in the middle of nowhere, just where you sent me. At that beach in Queens, near the hospital.

**#BlairW**: great, I'll be there soon.

I got in a cab and I read his last reply out loud. I suddenly felt… relieved. I couldn't wait to see Daniel after such a long time. It took me about 20 minutes to get there. Poor boy – he must've been freezing out there. I gave the driver the money and got out as some small drops of rain fell on my face, making the night even more perfect. Not.

There were few people around. I took off my high-heeled shoes and walked on the sand. It was cold, but it was nice to feel the sand between your toes. I pulled my jacket tighter around me while looking for Daniel. The beach was poorly illuminated – there was a tall lamp here and there, but they were not giving a proper light. I stopped for a second to listen to the waves. This beach was far from the urban jungle and it was so quite compared to the noise I had left behind. It was like the cab took me to a whole different world. The wind started blowing, making me stop daydreaming. I shook my head in order to remove the tropical images from my head and to get the hair out of my eyes. Perfect, even my French bun had to suffer because of the stupid weather.

The silence and the darkness were both interrupted by a big flash of lights and a lot of screams. If you didn't know better, you could think someone was just murdered. But the screams came from some obviously excited girls. And the flashes were from some crazy paparazzo's cameras. So I shrugged and headed in that direction. I know curiosity killed that cat (also, if you know where this saying comes from, feel free to enlighten me), but I'm just a sucker for meeting famous people. As I was getting closer, I could distinguish some silhouettes. Wow, those people sure had big lungs if I could hear them from that distance. When I was close enough, I saw there was a big group of girls jumping and fangirling around somebody. I suddenly regretted not having my heels on because my medium height didn't allow me to see who were they obsessing over. Seeing them from afar made it all look very ridiculous and funny so I started laughing by myself.

When I was about 10m away, however, I heard a name. And saw a face.

"Charles! Chuck, look HERE! Can I have your autograph?! CHUCK! Marry me, Chuck, please! I LOVE YOU! CHARLESSS"

_I swear my heart skips skips skips skips skips_… the hell with skipping! I had a heart attack.

My jaw dropped. It was Chuck freaking Bass! I started running towards them, ocasionally tripping and almost falling a few times. .What. Is. Air? I was blinking fast and I felt like a cartoon character. You know how in cartoons the eyes of the characters turn into dollars when they see money? Well, mine probably had little Chucks spinning around in dizzy movements. Somehow, I heard my phone ringing. I took it out of my jacket's pocket and answered without even looking at the number, still running and not paying attention to the conversation I was about to have. I could swear I had an idiotic smile plastered on my face.

"YESS?" I yelled at the person on the phone. "Be quick!" I continued in a high pitched voice.

"Blair…" a very familiar voice spoke. Christine, the friend from college.

"YES, Chris! You won't believe who I'm about to see. OH. MY. GOD!" I was just as ridiculously fangirling as the chicks in front of me. I was getting closer and tripped again, but I continued running as if my life depended on it.

"Blair… it's Serena." Her voice continued, soft and powerless.

"Yeah, she's at home! It's CHUCK!" I realised I had no coherence whatsoever but hey, don't judge. You'd do the same.

"No, she's not..." she spoke so freaking low that I had no chance to understand what she was actually saying. And that triggered some kind of alarm in my dizzy-Chuck-overwhelmed head, because she was_ the _loudest person I knew. I covered my left ear with my free hand, to hear her better, starting to walk instead of running.

"She's not in New York, Chris." I said with impatience, waving my hand in the air before placing it on my ear again.

"She is… she just… she…" Chris started crying.

I then stopped, because I got a strange feeling in my stomach. And no, it wasn't because I was standing just a few metres away of that man-doll. The girls became overly annoying and I punched each one of them individually in my head for not shutting the fuck up. I turned my back to the loud group and started walking in the opposite direction. Chris never cried for no apparent reason.

"What happened, Chris?" I asked softly.

"She just… she…"

"Chris", I tried to calm her down "it's ok. Tell me what happened."

"She's been in an accident. Please come… please come here" she said between sobs.

My hand jumped to my mouth, preventing a possible scream from escaping my lips. Which was a bad move, because the exasperating noise was amplified. I started running towards the street. I probably looked crazy, but I couldn't care less.I was slowly taking in what she said.

"I'll be right there, Chris, stay calm. Where are you?" I tried to be mature and stop my voice from shaking so I didn't scare Chris even more.

She gave me the address of the hospital and I jumped in the first cab I saw. The look on the driver's face confirmed the fact that I looked kind of out of my mind. Tears started rolling down my face as soon as I ended the conversation with Christine, leaving traces of mascara on my cheeks. I logged on starry-eyed and sent Daniel a message.

**#BlairW:** I'm srry, I couln't find you on th beach. Serena's been in anaccident. Please come Saint Peter hosp"

It was all I managed to write because the tears that kept flowing were blurring my sight. I leaned my forehead against the car's window, watching the buildings go by, wiping the tears on my cheek every now and then. I was genuinely scared. I needed someone to tell me it was going to be ok. I needed the strong person in our group. I needed Daniel.

There's this thing about hospitals. They make you feel helpless, useless. You'd hang on the tiniest bit of hope but somehow, all that white, all that _too-clean_ sensation around you destroys said hope. It's like you're trapped inside a crystal ball that's about to break at any time, causing the shreds to pinch your skin, each time deeper. That's how I was feeling while standing near Serena's bed, holding her hand. My head was resting on her tummy and I probably fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked around the room. All white, all _too-clean_. On a chair behind me was Christine, also sleeping, with her head fallen on her shoulder. As I was becoming aware of the crushing reality, the beepings of the machines S was connected to got to me.

I sighed, watching her sleep. The clock on the night stand showed 06:47. The hospital seemed to be like one private Universe because, despite the fact that outside most people were still sleeping, a lot of things were going on here. Nurses and doctors dragging their feet from one room to another, patients who couldn't sleep wandering the halls, friends and family with worried looks on their face, waiting, hoping, crying…

I had spent the night there and one by one, all of the memories came back to me. How I got to the hospital, how I ran inside, up and down the stairs until I found the ward Serena was in. How Chris came running to me and fell in my arms, her chest rising and lowering quickly under her quiet sobs. How I asked her what happened and she was not able to tell me. How I talked to the doctors, who said Serena was in a coma as the result of a car crash. How she was standing there, lifeless, just how I found her in the morning… How I desperately called Daniel and he would not answer.

**#BlairW**: Daniel… where the fuck are you?

**#ChuckBass**: I'm sorry, Blair. How is your friend?

**#BlairW**: MY friend? Are you fucking kidding me? Get your ass in here, Daniel

**#ChuckBass**: Look, Blair, it's really not Daniel. I'm sorry

**#BlairW**: You're an ass, you know that? it's not the time for playing one of your stupid games. Serena's been in a car accident. She's in a coma, Dan… I need you. WE need you…

**#ChuckBass**: I really don't know what to say, I'm sorry for her… but I honestly can't come now

I stared at my phone in disbelief. How could he be like that? We've all been friends for a long time, we were like a second family to each other. And now he was distant and couldn't care less about the fact that Serena, his own girlfriend, was in a coma and there were high chances she…

**#BlairW**: You will come. I'm giving you half an hour. Saint Peter Hospital.

It was the middle of the night when we were texting each other and while the doctors didn't allow me and Chris to stay in the same room as her before they stabilized her, we were walking up and down the hall. Chris was talking with Serena's parents, who were at the other end of the world and were preparing to jump on the first plane. I don't know how the minutes passed by, but a few moments later, a delivery man came to me. He asked me if I was Blair and then handed me a lovely bouquet and a card in an envelope. I stared at him in disbelief. Was that some kind of joke?

"Who are they from?" I asked.

"I don't really now, ma'am. Maybe the card is signed. Will you please sign here?" he asked, pulling out a pen and showing me a box on the paper clipped to his notepad.

I absent-mindedly wrote my name there and opened the envelope with one hand. On the front there was a Mickey Mouse holding a placard which read "Get well soon!" I opened it and irregular hand writing greeted me.

"_I'm really sorry for your friend. _

_Hope she gets well soon. Stay strong, Blair. _

_**#ChuckBass** "_

I couldn't believe it. I swear I felt the rage creeping up on me, making my insides burn. Heat was running through my veins as my nostrils flared. How dared he? How dared he leave us all alone when we needed him the most? If he no longer wanted to be friends, fine. You can't force someone into being your friend. But at least have some dignity! I tossed the flowers and the card in a bin next to me and took my phone, still worked up.

**#BlairW: **we're done, Daniel. You're a horrible person and I'm actually glad we're no longer friends. Not answering your phone, sending fucking cards instead of coming here , that's fine. But you know Serena needs you. You're a shitty boyfriend, that's for sure.

I pressed send and without thinking too much, I hit the "Block" button.

* * *

Hello lovelies! Thank you loads for taking the time to review, it makes my day. Hope you'll like this new chapter and... stay around, good things are coming!


	4. Things get messy

_Love is a friendship set on fire."_

**CHUCK'S POV**

I still didn't know what was going on in my head when I accepted to go to the beach to meet a stranger. It's not like I'm lacking a social life. I do not have a lot of free time on my hand and still, I somehow decided that wasting it like that was a good idea. Only it turns out I was… fooled. That Blair girl wasn't there. Instead, I was greeted by this massive crowd of girls, thing I was obviously already used to. So I kind of forgot about her. But a few minutes after midnight, when I was about to go to bed (yes, I know what you're thinking, Chuck Bass in bed so soon? I have my days), another message popped up on my phone's screen.

"_**#BlairW**__: Daniel… where the fuck are you?" _

I remembered about the previous text I got from her so being the gentleman that I am, I asked her about her friend. Which made this hormonal teenager quite mad. When I realized the situation was actually kinda bad with _Serena_, I thought it would be nice of me to at least send flowers. I don't know, man, being in the spotlight makes you feel somehow bound to do nice things for your fans, especially when they are in a tough situation like this. But I failed again. That girl was crazy. Plus, she kept calling me Daniel.

So it finally struck me – she genuinely thought I was her friend or boyfriend or whatever. Which made me reread our conversation and things got clearer and a lot funnier. That was clearly a misunderstanding I had to fix. But when I wanted to write her a message and explain everything, a happy (not) announcement popped up: "We are sorry for the inconvenience, but this user has blocked you."

I cocked an eyebrow at my phone. What on Earth was going on inside this girl's head? I couldn't let things get messy for this Daniel, out of some weird 'men support each other' thing. I'm not a bad person, I don't want people breaking up because of me.

So I took out my phone and called Nate.

"So basically you're asking me to break into this girl's account? And unblock you?" he repeated amused a few moments later.

"Yes, that's exactly what I need you to do."

"Y'a got some weird wishes, mate. Call you in 5" he said and he hung up.

Sometimes the fact that he's good with computers comes in handy. The little genius did what I asked him to do without questioning the legality or the morality of his action, which was a good thing. So now I had to think about what I actually wanted to say to this girl. Game on.

**#ChuckB.:** Hey there, Blair. It's me again. I really am sorry for Serena, tell her I said hi when she wakes up. I can't make it to the hospital because I'm not in NY anymore. If there's anything else I can do, just tell me.

**Blair's POV**

I was genuinely scared when the message appeared on my screen. Didn't I block the guy already? Was he stupid enough to think that some lame excuse would be enough? And how come he wasn't in the city anymore? Did he buy a private jet and I wasn't aware of that? Where was he, what was all that about?

I ignored him because the doctor came to me and said Serena was stabilized and we could stay with her until the morning. Which we did, of course.

And that brings us back to this morning. As I said, I had just woken up to see both Serena and Christine still sleeping. I silently got out of the room and went to the cafeteria to buy coffee. I bought 3 cups, out of habit, only to have the sensation of a dagger run through my stomach as I realized the third one would be useless. When I got back to the second floor, where the girls were, I tossed one of the cups in the bin, over a familiar bouquet. I suddenly remembered about the last unanswered message. After I entered the ward and placed one of the cups on the table near Chris (who was still sleeping, of course), I logged on starry-eyed. I reread the conversation from the previous night and I realized I had overreacted a bit. I didn't even take the time to ask him how he was, what he was doing, I was just… plain selfish. And he kept apologizing.

**#BlairW:** It's ok… Just wanted to let you know that the doctors said she might have a high chance of recovery. I miss you. What areyou up to these days?

**#ChuckB.**: Not much, basically travelling. I've got this… part time job now.

**#BlairW:** Oh. I seriously need an update. I go home for a few months and when I'm back, suddenly we're like strangers.

**#ChuckB.**: I don't know, we should probably change that.

**#BlairW:** Definitely. When are you going to be back?

**#ChuckB.**: I'm afraid not very soon… anyway, what have _you_ been up to? Thanks for letting me wait on the beach!

**#BlairW:** Oops, sorry! That's when I got the call about Serena. But you'll _never_ guess who I was about to meet.

**#ChuckB.**: Who?!

**#BlairW:** Chuck! Chuck Bass!

**#ChuckB.**: Uhm…

**#BlairW:** I know! That was my reaction, too. Haha. He was right freaking there and he was oh-so-perfect. I guess. Not that I actually saw him, but it's safe to assume so.

**#ChuckB.**: You really like him, eh?

**#BlairW:** Duh! Remember when I wanted to marry him and have his babies?

It took him a bit longer to respond to that one.

**#ChuckB.**: You're creepy

**#BlairW:** Hahaha! Good old Daniel. I still want that, just so it's clear.

**#ChuckB.**: Are you fangirling right now? You shouldn't, it would scare him

**#BlairW:** Pshh, bullshit. He'll never know anything about my dark, twisted dreams about him, so I'm safe.

Again, it took him a bit longer before he replied.

**#ChuckB.**: Sure… so tell me what you'd want to do to him.

**#BlairW:** things that would make even you blush.;)

**#ChuckB.: **I'm definitely taking you out as soon as I have the chance

I giggled. It was fun. I had really missed him. He was so much fun to be around. Or to text. While I was talking with him, the rest of the world kind of disappeared. I felt some sort of guilt. Serena was a few meters away from me and I was talking to her boyfriend like all was fine and dandy. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was even flirtin-. I felt a pit in my stomach. No. I can't think about that. Keep your emotions in control, Blair, for God's sake… You're a lady now, keep them in control. You're used to it.

* * *

Hello, lovelies & thanks for reading. I'm sorry if you're disappointed by this chapter, I know it's short and pretty crappy, but it's more of a filler. Guess what happens in the next one! I'm so exciteeed. hehe


	5. Sweatpants and fur coats

_"Just gonna stand there and hear me roargh, but that's alright cause I'm a dinosaur."_

**#ChuckB.**: let's play a game.

**#BlairW.**: what game?

**#ChuckB.**: truth or dare.

**#BlairW.**: fine, dare.

**#ChuckB.**: I dare you to meet me at 8 o'clock in Central Park.

I raised an eyebrow at my laptop.

**#BlairW.**: I thought you said you weren't in town just 24h ago.

**#ChuckB.:** I came back. I told you I'm taking you out.

That familiar feeling of pure and utter guilt shot through my veins once more after some damn butterflies began twirling around in my belly. I felt disgusting. Serena was still in the hospital, fighting for her life while her boyfriend kept playing these stupid games for which I was secretly falling every freaking time. I'm a bad person and I'm fully aware of that…

**#BlairW.**: you need to stop this.

**#ChuckB.:** Stop what?

I shot an incredulous look at my laptop. Was he really that pathetic?

Now there were two options. 1) he was an idiot and 2)he was an ass. But I guess those things are synonyms. No, really. He was being a pain in the ass. I hate modern technology (no, I don't) for the lack of proper communication. How am I supposed to tell if he's making fun of me or flirting or whatever else he was doing? How am I supposed to know how he's reacting behind his own screen, while I'm biting my nails on the other side? This guilty pleasure of constantly talking to him under the false pretense that we were actually talking about Serena (who only came up in our conversations once a day, to be honest) made me feel, I repeat, disgusting. But then again it's a guilty pleasure, how was I supposed to ignore it or to just leave it alone? I was wondering what was going to happen once Serena got out of the hospital. Once she was able to talk directly to him. Once she was going to seduce him again and again, like she does every time, with every single guy she lands her eyes on. Because she's unbelievably beautiful. That kind of beauty that you just can't compete with, no matter how many "beauty comes from inside" crap you read. I guess that's why I became so self conscious and a bit unsure. Living with a beauty queen can do that to you. And now I sound even more bitchy than I actually am. I love Serena, I really do, but… I can't even go there – too many 'but's.

Back to his question. _Stop what?_ I was afraid not to make a complete and utter fool out of myself. I mean… didn't he feel this _connection_ we had? Wasn't he eager to talk to me 24/7 like I was? Had he never felt something, I don't know, anything, all those times we were hanging out? Maybe not when we went out in a group, not with Serena around to mesmerize him. But those times when there was just the two of us. When we were simply hanging out (because we call each other _best friends_ so we do hang out quite often. Or we used to, before he disappeared), or when we were planning his Valentine's Day surprises for Serena… when all I could wish for was that someone did all that for me too…

**#ChuckB.:** Are you still there?

I snapped back to reality when Daniel sent me another text.

**#BlairW.**: Yes.

**#ChuckB.:** Stop what? He insisted.

So I decided to risk this friendship once and for all. I was surprised with my sudden choice. Saying all that goes on inside my mind isn't my best quality. I'd much rather try hard to ignore the ill-timed feelings. But something had changed inside my mind, maybe I was PMS'ing without even being aware of it or something. Because I decided that telling him everything would be a good idea.

But before doing so, I went straight to the little bar we had in the living room and opened it. I took a look inside only to get a bit confused. There were some bottles there – actually, a lot of bottles – but all belonged to Serena or were there since Christmas and Easter and other holidays. I don't normally drink so I'm not exactly qualified to choose a beverage for such a special occasion. All I could recognize was a half-full bottle of Jack Daniel's. Classy, Blair. I took the bottle and a large glass and went back to the sofa, holding both the bottle and the glass in a precarious balance. I placed them on the coffee table and poured myself just a bit, drinking the brown liquid at once. I winced in disgust as the alcohol left a burning trail in my throat, making me instantly regret my choice.

I took a deep breath and took a look at our conversation. I then stared blankly at the screen in front of me. What was I about to do? Well, here's a little info: I was about to completely and irrevocably destroy my relationship with the two people I cared about the most in my life: Serena and her lovely boyfriend, Daniel-the-jerk. All the mysterious looks, all the crooked smiles, all the words that always had double meaning to me… it was enough! I had to do it at some point anyway so I figured then was just fine.

I placed my fingers on the keyboard, unsure where to start. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a quick look at the bottle. And then at the inevitable question in front of me. And then back at the bottle. So as a natural reaction, I took the whiskey again and this time poured a full glass. I closed my eyes as if that would have reduced the horrible taste of the alcohol and drank as much as I could. It probably wasn't that much for a person who's used to drinking, but I was pretty damn proud of myself.

"How long does it take for this thing to kick in?" I absent-mindedly asked myself while tapping the glass with my nail. "Oh, look! I'm talking to myself! That has to be a good sign" I continued with an unfamiliar kind of enthusiasm in my voice. I started pacing around the room, occasionally drinking some more, waiting for some miracle that I supposed alcohol could make happen. I think I did that for about 10 minutes, until I became dizzy – not sure if because of the Jack or because of my Olympic circuit around the room. I got back to the sofa on which my laptop was. I bent down and wrote him another message.

**#BlairW.**: All of it. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.

I tried to postpone the moment when I actually had to get to the point. I took advantage of those two minutes it took him to respond. I drank the rest of the whiskey in the glass and I was beginning to get used to that not-so-horrible-anymore taste. Before returning my attention to the laptop, I gave up the glass and I grabbed the whole bottle. If I was about to get drunk, might as well do it properly.

**#ChuckB.:** I really don't. What's going on?

I laughed, which sounded weird in the empty room. I took a look around,hoping to find God knows what. But I didn't, which made for a good reason to take a sip from the bottle.

"Hic".

My eyes went wide as I hiccupped. What the hell? Was this normal? Was this an allergic reaction or something? Before I could type in "hiccup drinking danger" in Google's search bar, he wrote again.

**#ChuckB.:** Stop what?

And that, my friends, was the question of the night. I took one final sip and decided it was enough. I placed the bottle in my lap, crossing my legs underneath me and propping the laptop on my knees. I was about to write a damn novel.

**#BlairW.**: This game. This play pretend. Don't tell me you don't feel it. Every fucking time we're in the same room we give each other lusty looks and the time just stops. I know you (*hiccup*) want me and you'd be stupid not to notice that I want you too. I. WANT. YOU. because you're heart stoppingly hot. And I like you. I like you because I want you. And I want to call you mine and don't care about what others say. I've wanted you ever since you (*hiccup*) hooked up with Serena and I don't blame you she's ridiculously beautiful and I can see why you'd chose her over me but it's over between you two isn't it it's over. I don't want to be shitty friends or (*hiccup*) best friends. I want the real deal, the whole package. I want your eyes to light up when I enter the room and I want you to buy _me_ flowers and plan for _me_ romantic trips and dinners. I want you to want me and I want it now.

"Hicc"

I don't think I was actually planning on sending him that. I wrote all of it without even reading. Maybe it was my hormones finally acting up or maybe it was ole' good Uncle Jack finally doing his job in my veins or maybe just the fact that the send button was so close to me. I just had to push it. And off it went.

I began reading my wonderful story while sipping straight from the bottle. At about half of the fourth sentence, I was surprised with myself. So surprised that I choked with the whisky, spitting it all over the laptop. And the inevitable happened: I began crying. Like crying hard, as if my life depended on it. Thank you, Uncle Jack, wonderful job you did here.

**#BlairW.**: I didn't mean any of this. I don't S ()*E*HBssd9)#&

**#ChuckB.:** Blair?

I imagined him saying my name and the sobs became even more powerful. I was hugging the now empty bottle of Jack like a teddy bear. A rather cold and very solid teddy bear. My chest was shaking and the hiccups were still there, making me whine every 5 seconds or so.

**#ChuckB.:** Are you ok? Have you been drinking? Doing drugs?

**#BlairW.**: You are a jerk! You are a jrk and I ht yu! I sighed, sobbing my heart out and typing with my left hand because the right one was still clinging to the bottle.

I started writing some more shit but luckily, he interrupted me.

**#ChuckB.:** What's the nearest coffee shop?

**#BlairW.**: Pierre's café, I typed between tears, not paying any attention actually.

**#ChuckB.:** I'll meet you there in half an hour.

"Ok" I said out loud, sighing and wiping my tears with the back of my hand, just like a little kid who knows he has no change at getting the new toy.

I have no idea what I did for the next 20 minutes. But after that, I decided to actually go downstairs. I put the laptop on the couch, near me, and stood up.

"Wuaaaah!" I exclaimed as dizziness overpowered me.

The room was suddenly spinning in a funny way, causing the objects to move from their original place. Cool. I took my hand to my forehead, closing my eyes to avoid that spinning sensation. I rested my other hand on the coffee table, trying to maintain my vertical position. I repeat, trying. As I accidently hit my toe on the table's corner, I let out a series of curses I had no idea I knew up to that point. Ha! Alcohol actually makes you smarter. Go figure. No wonder Hemingway and Verlaine and other guys were alcoholics.

When the things finally stopped moving around like in a cartoon, I took my coat from the chair and put it over my clothes, my eyes still narrowed because I couldn't seem to find my way around if I had them fully opened. I didn't, not even for a second, question my decision. If it involved seeing Daniel, I was ready to do probably anything. I honestly have no idea how I made my way downstairs and outside of the apartment. I don't even know how I got round the corner, to Pierre's. But everything became clearer once I got there.

As I said, everything was being a blur. But when I opened the door of the coffee shop and dozens of heads turned to look at me, a whole lot of unnecessary lights blinding my poor eyes, it was as if I suddenly snapped back to reality._ Shit just got real_, they say.

I was just standing there, in the doorway. I was like 'don't mind me, get back to your drinks', but nope, those people seemed to find me very intriguing. Which made no sense to me at the time. Because standing like a fucking idiot at the entrance of a coffee shop, at night, wearing a fur coat over your pajamas, with your hair in a mess and your eyes red from crying seemed totally normal to me. Yep.

"Uhm…" I began, not sure what to say. The barista cocked an eyebrow, stopping from whatever the hell he was going.

Just when I was about to ignore them, enter the shop and sit down at an empty table in the corner, someone took my hand. I heard him mumbling some lame excuses to the others and then he dragged me outside. I followed him with my eyes half closed. Once I found myself out of the spotlight (literally, those lights were Red Carpet worthy), in the middle of the side walk, I suddenly threw my arms around his neck, pulling him in a tight hug and burying my face in his chest.

"Ohhh, I missed you so muchhhh." I said in a childish voice, wishing to stay like that for an eternity.

"You've… grown" I mumbled in his shirt as I was waiting for him to return the hug. A gigantic and idiotic smile spread across my face. He was indeed taller than I remembered. He must've taken a lot of vitamins. Daniel placed one arm on my back and then the other in an awkward angle, almost as if he was afraid to fully touch me. _Wait._ I sniffed his shirt. _Wait, wait._

Through my drunk phase, despite all the alcohol-induced chaos in my head, I knew something wasn't right. I could tell Daniel's hugs from a thousand. The way this guy put his arms weirdly around me, patting my back like that… Waaait a second. I sniffed loudly again, curling my nose, this time paying close attention to the scent. I was unfamiliar with this one too. So Dior Intense wasn't his signature perfume anymore? And he had lost his ability to hug? And he was taking lots of vitamins? Wait…

I very slowly pulled my chin up but I could only see his facial hair. Oh, he was growing a beard, too. At this rate, this guy was going to need an "update info" option in my brain. Without removing my hands from his neck, I leaned back a bit, standing on my heels so I could see his face. I tilted my head to one side to take full advantage of the light and properly looked at him. The shock made all the alcohol in my system… evaporate. Because Jesus. Christ. And. Sweet. Mother. of Jesus.

I might have been drunk as hell, it might not have been a habit of mine, I might not react well when I do it, but let me tell you… shit just got real. Again. (I do swear a lot when I'm a bit tipsy, don't I?) Cause that someone I was hugging was sure as hell not Daniel. No, sir, he was definitely not.

I carefully removed my hands from around his neck and took two steps behind, analyzing this stranger. Haha, I'm so funny. I said stranger. He was not. Not to me and not to a million other girls crying over his photo over their beds. Because he was Bass. Chuck Bass. (also known as the most well-known actor in like forever, in case you're a dumb person. Just saying.)

(Can I let the fangirl inside me have her moment? Ok. Here she goes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA asfkasjddaber. Over)

I blinked fast a few times. (Wait, nope, there's more: akjdsfAdskjhfw) My eyes went wider than I thought they could. Hey! It was my "break Guinness Records" night. I was paralyzed. Well, not literally. I tilted my head again, letting out an idiotic chuckle. My body was doing things without checking with my brain first because the next thing I did was to lift a hand and poke his chest with one finger.

"Will you break if I touch you?" I asked absent-mindedly, poking him once more.

I felt the urge to make small circles around him in order to see if I was visiting Madame Tussaud's in a dream or if I was having a psychotic break. Notice how my brain couldn't process the incident being actually real.

"Uhm, no?" he said in an even voice and I wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement.

He didn't seem surprised or annoyed or shocked or anything in that field as he stuffed his hand in the pocket of those perfect dress pants. He didn't seem, well, anything, to be honest. He had a completely straight face. His eyes were so brown, his eyelashes were so long that when I looked at him with my mouth a bit open, I got lost. I noticed how the outer corners of his eyes were a tiny bit lifted. He was blinking in a lazy way, keeping completely calm (so no fangirling on his side. Ha.) His lower lip was pushed forward just a bit, creating a lovely pout. Of course I knew all those traits from magazines. I'm a stalker. But being actually there, seeing it in 3D… crap.

I parted my lips a bit with the intention of actually saying something. Unfortunately, just a weird whimper came out, making me look even more ridiculous. Like that was even possible.

"So… are you ok?" he asked in that same monotone voice.

Was I ok? Well, a little recap: I was standing in the middle of the street, in front of my celebrity crush. I was drunk. My hair was a mess and my eyes were swollen. Do I have to mention my lovely attire again? (teddy bears sweatpants and fur coats should be a new trend, by the way). Just half an hour ago, I had declared my undying and completely inadequate love for my best friend's boyfriend to this sex symbol, as if it was any of his business. I had repeatedly sworn him, called him names and told him secrets on a website. And now I was staring at him because I was fangirling on the inside, unable to express my emotions on the outside. Was I ok? Suuuure, why wouldn't I be? Life is fun!

I wanted to say something but then decided it was safer to just nod. Now what? Things were starting to get awkward (because clearly up until then everything was just rainbows and ponies. Note the sarcasm)

"Should we" – he paused to gesture with his hand, you know, only his heart stopping signature move – "go inside, get a coffee?"

Now before you hate me forever for what I did after that, keep in mind that I was still in shock. My mind wasn't able to process what was happening. So before I knew what I was doing, I replied in a surprisingly calm voice:

"No, thanks. I've got to go."

I even gave him a little smile. (I'm so proud. I'm Blair Waldorf after all) And then I left. Like… I went around him and casually walked away from the actor I had been fantasizing over since basically forever. I'm going to spare you the details of what I did once I got home and realized what I had done. It may or may have not involved me banging my head on every wall.

Repeatedly.

* * *

Ok, I might have slightly exagerated with the length of this chapter but I hope you had the patience to make it to the end. If you did, thank you lots for reading. I get very excited everytime I get a new review so I can't wait to see what if you guys liked it. Feel free to tell me what you thought about them finally meeting. Hehee

Kisses, lovelies


	6. The Pigeon Dilemma

I make stupid decisions. I shall never think again. "I've been walking around all day thinking, I think I have a problem. I think I think too much." Nothing good ever comes from that. Except that the situation I found myself in this morning was caused, in fact, by a massive lack of thinking. Argh! I just can't stand this verb anymore.

I was staring at the phone on the night stand. It was the first damn thing I saw when I woke up with a terrible headache. I spent a few good minutes trying to ignore, well… basically everything. I hid underneath the blanket, covering my face entirely and groaning exasperated. I could totally understand the notion of not being able to run from yourself. If that was going to go on for much longer, I could definitely become crazy, the proper way. Being crazy-fun is too mainstream. I'm a hipster. Really… you have no idea what it's like to want so bad to turn off your thoughts. But that's pretty impossible. Once you try to avoid thinking about something, you obviously do the opposite. That's a no brainer. At first, it was just annoying. But after that it was consuming. I felt like crying because I became paranoid and I thought I would never get over that episode. *slightly exaggerating*

"Twinkle twinkle little staaar, how I wonder how-the-rest-of-the-fucking-lyrics-gooooes" I whined as I pushed the duvet off of me. I sighed and placed my hands on top of it. _I need to think twice before using the f-word now that I'm in the big city_.

"This is going to be a great day. A great day indeed" I tried to cheer myself up. "I can do this." I inhaled deeply and jumped out of the bed.

I'd really like to impress you with the incredible details of my day but… there isn't really anything interesting. I probably should mention how I looked at my phone all day from the corner of my eye. I think I was secretly hoping a message would appear on it. But no, it didn't. Of course. And I could totally understand why. Because let's be serious here, I'm not _that_ retarded. It wasn't like Ch… oh my God, I can't even say his name. It wasn't like he-who-must-not-be-named would desperately fall in love with me after seeing me in that magnificent state. Remembering it once again made my cheeks go bright red as I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight. Ok, ok, let's just ignore it…

I really needed to talk to someone. Daniel was nowhere to be found (and he was the only one to blame for the damn situation I was in!), Serena was in the hospital, Christine was there too and basically that covered all of my close friends. So I decided it would be a good idea to head to the hospital too.

As I was getting dressed, a very familiar sound made me stop halfway through rolling up my stockings. My eyes went wide as I froze in an awkward position. I skipped in one leg until I reached my phone and practically yanked it from the table. I can't really describe the way I felt when I saw a big smiley face on my screen, along with the name "Georgina". It was the perfect combination between disappointment and relief.

"Heeello!" she said enthusiastically.

"Georgina" I responded, holding the phone between my ear and my right shoulder, using my hands to pull up the stockings properly.

"Gee, thanks, nice to hear you too"

"Just wait a second" I asked her, placing the phone on the desk and fully concentrating on getting dressed. That seemed harder than usual. After I got the job done, I got a bit distracted by the birds chirping on my window case. I walked there, picking the phone on my way.

"Ok, helloooo" I responded with an equally enthusiastic voice. Not really.

"What are you doing?" she asked me a bit annoyed.

"Odododooo, you little thiiing" I said to the little pigeon, getting closer to the window and smiling like an idiot.

"Uhm…" she seemed confused. And annoyed.

"Oh, sorry, you won't believe what cutieeee just landed on my window. Oh! I'll send you a picture". Before she had the time to respond, I entered the Camera app on my phone and snatched a picture of the little bird. Just when I wanted to send it to her, I heard her yelling, even though my phone wasn't on speaker. I took it back to my ear.

"What is wrong with you today?" I asked her, going back to admiring the pigeon.

"Nothing. You're not paying attention to me" she whined.

"But I am." I said absent-mindedly, tapping the window with my finger, trying to get the adorable thing's attention. "How are you?" I continued as I leaned my forehead against the window, wanting to have eye contact. Omg, I'm just…

"I'm fine. Guess what day it is todayyy" she suddenly regained her good mood. I searched through my mental calendar but found no events. Not that I have a good memory with dates, but… I was just taking a wild guess. Until I remembered what day it was. It was Saturday. And the day before Saturday it's Friday. Which was yesterday. (yay for my logical deductions) Which was when I completely and irrevocably embarrassed myself in front of the one and only Chuck Bass. As the image of a drunk me hanging on to him flushed back to the surface of my brain, I let my head hit the window with a loud thud. The pigeon finally turned its attention to me, looked me in the eyes (!) and I put on my best Blair smile. He let out a squeal and without a trace of doubt he took off.

"Nobody wants meeee" I groaned as I let my head fall back on the window. If I kept doing that, one – my window was going to break and two – I was going to get some serious brain damage.

On the other side of the line I heard a very confused and angry (again) Georgina. Ok, focus now!

"I can't believe you" she said resigned.

"Yeah, tell me about it… I think we should seriously talk."

"You don't say. That's what I've been trying to do for the past 10 minutes."

"No, Georgina, like… we should talk." I was suddenly serious.

"Whatever it is, it can wait. Today is finally the day when they put up the winners. I am so excited and scared and excited and frightened and I'm running out of adjectives but can you please show some support?" she said without stopping to take a breath.

"Oook, G, you've got it bad. Do you really, like really really think we have a ch-". I heard a beep and the call was ended. "-ance at winning" I said to the empty room while staring at the phone in complete confusion. What was wrong with everybody? Pigeons were scared of me, my best friend hated me, what was next? Maybe a Teenage Mutant Turtle would come and beat the crap out of me, excuse the expression? Because I'm such a loser and I just made a fool out of myself in front of… STOP! Don't even go there.

_Thank you, conscience. You're finally doing something._

I was so (read SO SO freacking) tempted to log on starry eyed. But I knew that if I went there, things would go downhill so I just ignored the laptop. Well, not really. Because I had to go on that site where the winners were going to be announced as I called Georgina. She only answered after a few calls, you know, just to let me know she was upset. But we began talking (as I very gracefully avoided the subject of he-who-must-not-be-named) and laughing and things were back to normal as I thought I would die hitting refresh.

As I was telling her some non-sense story about God knows what, she started screaming. I frowned.

"Ok, it's not that big of a deal, it's just…"

And then she screamed some more. Man, I didn't know my stories were _that_ interesting.

"OH MY GOD!"

"Uhm… Georgina?"

"OH MY GOD! WE WON! WE WONNNNN!"

My eyes went wider than wide. Ok, I know I said we had no chance to win that thing and I was fully believing it, but that didn't stop me from hitting the refresh button like it was my ticket to heaven (which it was, but… yeah). The page loaded insanely slowly, as you'd imagine (duh, all those girls checking the site could bring the server down, God forbid) but when it actually did, I joined Georgina in the screaming contest. And I wasn't even sorry for my neighbors.

"GEORGINAAA, YOU WON! We won!"

And then there was some more screaming. A huge smile appeared on my face as I got up and started dancing around the room. We continued with this routine for a while, until both my legs and my throat hurt and I fell on the bed, exhausted.

"This is going to be the bestttt day of our lives" she stated loudly as I stared at the ceiling with a grin plastered on my face.

Oh, she had no idea…


End file.
